


Just Close Your Eyes (No One Can Hurt You Now)

by newisalwaysbetter



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captivity, Caretaking, Could be garcyatt or anti-lyatt whatever you prefer, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Flynn is team dad, Flynn takes care of his team, Flynn wears lots of layers, Flynn's affection is aggressive, Whump, Wyatt is in the third chapter, garcy, mild lucy whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18053951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newisalwaysbetter/pseuds/newisalwaysbetter
Summary: Flynn and Lucy are locked into a cell by Rittenhouse goons. With Lucy in a shift and Flynn in All His Layers, there's a simple solution when Lucy starts getting cold; unfortunately, we're still mid-S1 and Lucy isn't quite sure she can trust.(Mid-S1 Garcy fluff with cuddling and jacket sharing.)Updated with two more chapters, with Wyatt in the third.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I take fic requests over at to-hell-with-oblivion on tumblr :)

Their cell was stone, and very cold. Flynn and Lucy sat in opposite corners, both curled into themselves, watching each other in the dim light.

Lucy held her hands under her arms, but circumstances had left her in nothing but her cotton shift, and every inch of her was cold. She felt Flynn's judgmental gaze upon her. Lucy gritted her teeth to stop them from chattering, and looked away.

Finally, Flynn shed his longcoat, leaving him in undershirt, dress shirt, hoodie and windbreaker, and laid it out next to him. He patted the coat. "Come here."

"Yeah, I'd rather not," Lucy muttered. "Thanks."

"Come on, Lucy. You're shaking." Flynn cocked his head. "And Wyatt and Rufus will never forgive me if you come back hypothermic."

"Bold of you to assume we're coming back," Lucy said under her breath.

"I mean it. I promised you that I would get you to safety, and I _will_. But you're going to have to start trusting me, Lucy."

After a long moment, Lucy muttered, "Fine." Struggling to her feet, she wrapped her arms around herself and crossed the room with all the imperious spirit she could muster. Keeping her eyes warily on Flynn, she reached down for the coat.

Flynn gave her a dry look, and his hand shot out and locked around her wrist. Lucy yelled and struggled back. "Let. Me. _Go!_ "

"Enough," Flynn hissed. "In that outfit, you think adding one more layer will make a difference? What you need is body heat, and as... _awkward_ as this situation is, I can provide that. Just sit down."

Lucy glared and yanked hard on her wrist.

Flynn said her name gently. "You know I'm not going to hurt you."

Lucy glared, fire in her eyes. "I don't, actually, but...fine." She jerked her wrist away, adjusted her shift, and dropped down onto the coat. "If I'm going to die anyway, I'm not doing it cold."

"That's the spirit. Lean forward?" Lucy side-eyed him. " _Please._ " When she did so, Flynn leaned over to pull the jacket up around her, and to cautiously put an arm around her shoulders. "Come here." Lucy remained stiff, but allowed Flynn to put rest his arm around her shoulders and pull her close against him. He really was very warm.

"Relax," Flynn said idly. "You'll be warmer the closer you get."

Lucy rolled her eyes, but tried to loosen her frozen muscles. Flynn, to his credit, didn't say a word.

They sat like that for a long time, and eventually Lucy stopped shivering. It was hard to tell if it was getting darker or if she was falling asleep, but at one point she caught herself resting her head on a warm shoulder, and reflexively jerked herself awake.

"You can sleep," Flynn said softly. "I'll keep watch."

"I still...don't trust you," Lucy mumbled sleepily.

"Ah, that's okay. You will one day." Flynn put his warm hand over her cold one. "Rest now. I won't leave you behind."

That was the last Lucy heard before she drifted off. Her last memory before morning was briefly waking to find herself warmed through. She opened her eyes just enough to see, draped around her shoulders, Flynn's hoodie and windbreaker. Next to her, Flynn sat up against the wall, in nothing but a dress shirt, keeping the watch. Her head rested on his shoulder.

As sleep took her again, Lucy tucked her cold nose into the crook of his neck. Flynn hummed, and Lucy drifted off to sleep, warm and breathing in the comforting smell of Flynn's cologne.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was unexpectedly popular, so here's the follow-up :)  
> This is basically a warm-up to the third and final chapter, coming this weekend! No warnings apply.  
> Enjoy, and then come request fics from me at to-hell-with-oblivion on tumblr :)

Lucy had almost forgotten the night in the cell by the time it happened again. She didn't know how she kept getting into these situations.

She and Flynn had gotten separated from Wyatt and Rufus on a mission to the literal Oregon Trail, and to avoid reenacting one of the more gruesome deaths Lucy remembered from playing the game as a child, Flynn had constructed the two of them a makeshift shelter in the depths of the pitch-black woods.

They lay very close to each other in the musky darkness. One of Flynn's many black coats lay between them and the damp ground. Lucy could feel Flynn's large presence behind her, walling her off from the cold night. She thought he might be sleeping--his breathing was soft and silent--but sleep for her was, as usual, a million miles away.

Where were Wyatt and Rufus? Were they safe? What were they going to do tomorrow? What if it rained and they lost the trail? What if they were lost out here forever? What if she never saw Amy again?

The earth crunched as Flynn moved behind her. Lucy whispered, "Sorry, I can't usually--"

"Enough of this," Flynn grumbled, and his long arms reached out and twisted around her.

"No." Lucy struggled, but Flynn pinned her effortlessly. He held her to his chest, perfectly still, and waited for her to calm.

Eventually Lucy said through her teeth, "Why?"

"I remember that night in the cell." When Lucy tensed, his voice lowered. "It's not like _that._ I know you, Lucy. You won't be able to sleep with your brain working, but you'll be no good to us if you don't sleep."

"You don't know anything about me," Lucy hissed.

Flynn let that hang in the air for a moment. "Are you still thinking about the mission?" Lucy didn't respond, so Flynn leaned forward, his breath hot against her hair. "Well?"

"No," she snapped, "Because now I'm thinking about _you._ "

If her arms had been free, Lucy would have clapped a hand over her mouth, as she realized instantly how it sounded. She could hear the smile in Flynn's voice. "Is that so?"

"You know what I meant," Lucy gritted out. "Let me go, I'll just...not sleep."

"That's not good for you, or any of us. You know what you need, Lucy, and it's something to quiet your mind." Flynn took a deep breath, and Lucy felt it against her hair. "But if you ask, now, I will let you go."

Lucy chewed on her lip, wanting to fight and not being able to. Besides which, Flynn was hot as a furnace, and warmth was finally beginning to seep back into her chilled bones.

"Fine, _one_ night," she said. "But tomorrow, you sleep outside."

"Yes ma'am," Flynn said lightly. "Now try to sleep."

Lucy fumed, trying to come up with an appropriate response. She was distracted by Flynn's fingers carding through her hair, and stiffened.

"I can hear your brain working," Flynn said. "Time to focus on something else."

Lucy wanted to keep bristling, bu tthe warmth of Flynn's body was loosening her muscles, and after a few minutes, she was forced to relax into Flynn's arms. The whole time, Flynn continued to gently stroke her hair, his nails dragging along her scalp. The touch, uncertain and laden with the promise of...something, distracted Lucy from her racing thoughts long enough for exhaustion to settle over her like a fog. As she sank helplessly into the warm darkness, the rhythmic stroking of Flynn's fingers never slowed, and Lucy's mind fell easily into the rhythm, and even easier into the gentleness of sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third and final chapter! Thanks for your support in encouraging me to extend this. Enjoy your touch-starved Lucy/garcy fluff, friends :)  
> This chapter can be read as a prequel to garcyatt or as anti-lyatt, whichever you prefer. No warnings needed.  
> As always, prompt requests remain open over at to-hell-with-oblivion on tumblr :)

It was almost a year later, after months of sleepless nights next to Wyatt, that Lucy realized the damage that had been done that night in the cell. She'd tried asking Wyatt to touch her, but his rhythm was unsteady and all too easily the casual touch turned to sex (which was nice, but did little to quiet her mind).

"You can't be serious," Wyatt said when she explained it to him. "I'm sure there's something I can--"

Lucy shook her head. "We've tried everything."

"But..." Wyatt looked desperate, and picked at the seam of the blanket. "It's been months since you tried it, right? Maybe it won't even work."

"Maybe not," Lucy conceded, and reached up to stroke his face. "But I want to try."

Wyatt turned his face into her palm and closed his eyes.

"Please. I know it's hard, but...for me."

Eyes on the ground, Wyatt nodded.

Lucy had to sacrifice all her pride to explain the situation to Flynn. She did so through gritted teeth, avoiding his gaze, and asked. She didn't know what she expected, and their mutual uncertainty stretched into the silence. Finally, she looked up, and Flynn nodded.

That night, she lay in bed with Wyatt curled protectively around her when they heard Flynn knock on the door.

They had all agreed on these circumstances, to keep things as "normal" as possible. Nonetheless, Wyatt's arms tightened nervously around Lucy's stomach as the door _clicked_ shut. Lucy interlaced her fingers with Wyatt's, and gave his hand a squeeze. Flynn's big form advanced through the dim to where they lay.

They had a chair set up for this exact purpose, at the head of the bed near where Lucy lay. (It seemed very close all of a sudden.) Flynn's long form folded into the chair, and he leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. Lucy looked through the gloom at Flynn's hands hanging inches from her face, and her breath caught. He was so big, so close.

Flynn sat perfectly still beside their bed; there was a time when this would have been a threat. His cold, bright gaze swept over them. For a moment, the vulnerability of having him here, in their bedroom, was unbearable. Three pairs of eyes shone momentarily in the darkness.

Lucy inhaled a shaky breath. Then she shut her eyes.

Flynn held eye contact with Wyatt as he reached forward and stroked a hand over Lucy's hair. He seemed to be asking for permission.

Wyatt didn't want to move, didn't want to disturb Lucy, so he just let his scowl drop. Right in front of his eyes, Flynn's fingers slid easily over Lucy's hair. Lucy huffed at the touch, but Wyatt felt her tense body relax in his arms. Flynn's eyes left Wyatt's, and fixed upon Lucy's dark head, and his hand moved steadily, with clear, deliberate motion. As Lucy melted into the sheets, Flynn began to make whispery nonsense sounds, nickering as though to a horse. " _Shhhhh._ "

If Wyatt expected anything else, it never came. And although Wyatt viewed this whole situation as a personal failing on his part, Flynn was clearly uninterested in him, or in gloating. His face was unreadable as he stroked Lucy's hair, and Lucy lay still, moreso than Wyatt had ever seen her in bed. Soon she was breathing through her mouth, her hands loose in the sheets, and Wyatt felt her heartbeat slow and even against his chest. He looked up and made eye contact with Flynn, narrowed his eyes as if to say, _Isn't that enough?_

In the darkness, Flynn lifted a finger to his lips. The movement disrupted the motion of his hand, and Lucy twitched, her brow furrowing. Wyatt pursed his lips. _More to learn._

Flynn kept at it for another half an hour. His eyes were soft and half-lidded, and  for a moment his face was tender as the night. He carded his fingers gently through her dark hair, and his nails scraped along her scalp with every touch.

The hand that Lucy held in Wyatt's moved in the same motion, fingertips sliding along his knuckles. She lay there protected, with Flynn leaning over her and Wyatt wrapped around her, and the soft, warm night pulsed with the gentle vibration of Flynn's hand in her hair, her hand on Wyatt's knuckles, and her heart beating in time with it all.

 _Sleep,_ whispered the rhythm. _You're safe._

As the minutes slid by, a gentle rumbling filled the room. Lucy was snoring softly.

The comforting rub of Lucy's fingers on his hand had soothed Wyatt's fears, and his eyelids were beginning to droop. This time, when Flynn's hand slowed, Lucy's breathing remained steady, and Flynn withdrew with caution. Wyatt fixed his sleepy eyes on Flynn, and found Flynn watching him--not Lucy--with something Wyatt didn't entirely recognize. For a moment, he thought it might be concern, but then Flynn rose, a slow, dark mountain, and moved out of his line of sight.

(For a moment, Wyatt thought a few gentle fingers whispered over his hair.) " _Shhhh._ "

Then the door opened, and Wyatt thought it stayed that way for a beat too long, like Flynn lingered in the doorway. Then it clicked shut, and they were alone.

With Flynn gone and Lucy sleeping like the dead, the room seemed cold and big and empty; but all thoughts of that were swept away as sleep overcame Wyatt with its surprisingly gentle hands, and took him quickly down into the warm, thrumming darkness.


End file.
